When I quit piano, I said I would never touch classical music ever again.
Now, I am eating my own words.
Counting the beats in my head, I glue one eye on the music sheet and another on the conductor, waiting for my cue. This is my first All-State concert, and I'm not exactly sure how I should act as the first chair.
I straighten my back and take a deep breath. I am the First chair of Third Violin, a section of the All-State orchestra comprising top high school musicians from across West Virginia.
Sitting among these talented players, I feel like a lottery winner. Who would've thought six months ago, when I touched these strings for the first time, that I would make it this far?
Certainly not my family. They became proud owners of earplugs when I declared that I would learn to play the violin -- an instrument of my own choosing, prompted by my own initiative, to create music with my own two hands.
Yet the irony is not lost on me. This fervent desire to be independent from parental influence has led me right back to where it all began - classical music - our childhood bedtime melody.
What are the things that come to your mind when you think of the year 1994? Please share them below with us, or on Instagram comments or DM, or just jot them down in your private diary.
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Up next, 1995!